Converting your blurt
Until recently, I considered myself a fairly positive person, but I’ve learned I have some blurts to convert.
For the past several weeks, I’ve been part of a group that meets on Wednesday evenings to work through Julia Cameron’s book, The Artist’s Way. The book, an international bestseller, is basically a 12-week program for those who want to “recover their creativity from a variety of blocks.”
I have a cynical side, and there are some parts of this book that cause me to cringe-advice that seems too New Age-y or so obvious that it feels condescending, that occasionally calls to mind a skip through daisies in a white, gauzy dress rather than the analytical, frill-free manual I might’ve preferred.
So it was with some sarcasm that I began the exercise where we each were to come up with a positive affirmation about ourselves. I channeled my inner Jack Handy and announced, “I’m good enough, I’m smart enough, and gosh darn it, I like myself!”
But then, as I attempted to write my actual affirmation ten times, as instructed, I was surprised by what happened. With each scrawled statement I wrote came words that were somehow stronger than mine. A former in-law saying (about my writing), “I suppose there are some people who actually like that kind of thing.” Another person telling me, “You really shouldn’t try to write beyond those cute little puppy dog stories of yours.” Myself saying, “Find a dream to chase that you might actually catch.”
I was surprised that words spoken ages ago could still wield such power, that they were strong enough to drown out compliments from others whose opinions I value much more. Yet I heard them clearly, just like the book predicted I would.
Cameron calls these our ‘blurts’-objections that flag our personal negative core beliefs. She says these blurts will “hold us in bondage until they’re dissolved.”
Although I find her choice of phrasing a wee bit dramatic, I tend to agree. Negativity holds me back, makes me fearful. I began paying attention to just how frequently my blurts surfaced, and how most of the time, they weren’t long-stored criticisms from others, but personal indictments.
You’re wasting your time. You don’t stand a chance.
You’re going to embarrass yourself.
You can’t possibly believe that’s any good.
According to the book, we need to convert our blurts and get away from negative thinking. Often, during one of our meetings, someone will say something self-critical, and one of us will quickly call out, “Blurt!”
It reminded me of an exercise from a church camp I attended as a teenager. Whenever one of us heard someone say something negative, we were supposed to yell, “BIND!” Although I forget the reason behind that particular word, I haven’t forgotten the impact the exercise had.
My friend, Valerie, had also attended that camp, so when we came home, “BIND!” came with us. She was quick to call me on every negativity I voiced, and so competitive was I that I managed to train myself to stop saying negative things.
After awhile, I stopped thinking them, too.
For the longest time, I managed to keep negativity at bay, but gradually-without me even recognizing it was happening-the blurts began to creep in again, and some have grown mighty deep roots.
In my copy of the book, I highlighted a quote by Susan Jeffers that says, “We have been taught to believe that negative equals realistic and positive equals unrealistic.”
It seems sad, but true. Instead of admiring those with positive outlooks, they’re looked upon as vain or criticized for wearing rose-colored glasses. Expecting the worst doesn’t really prepare us for the worst any more than buying a saw prepares us for building a house.
I remember reading once about how a ship can sail around the world over and over, but if enough water gets in, it will sink. It’s the same way with people. If you let enough negative thoughts in, the person will sink like a ship.
I have some bailing to do, but I’m taking it on. One blurt at a time.
March 28th, 2008 at 10:18 am
I love this post!
I just figured out that a lot of my teenage rebellion, instead of just being bad behavior, saved me from going down with the ship. When I questioned rules or regulations that didn’t make sense to me, I was affirming my own sense of what is “realistic”- it’s just that my reality was a lot more free (and freeING) than others’. I am trying to channel that teenager more often nowadays, in an effort to combat the critical voices that’s taken up residence in my mind.
The voice that questions conventional wisdom is wise, in and of itself.
And anyway, lots of people love your writing!
April 3rd, 2008 at 9:30 am
This is what I do with my patients as a psychologist, only we call it “cognitive restructuring”! I tried to read that book a while back. If I remember correctly, your husband made fun of it in our class! Tell him, “See, I told you so!” It was a bit artsy fartsy, but maybe I’ll give it another try. Let me know how you like it.
Laura
April 9th, 2008 at 9:43 am
It really does get too artsy-fartsy for me, but I like a lot of the exercises and the general idea behind it. I just wish it was packaged differently.
Plus it’s a little hard to throw myself behind this author’s challenges to chase my dreams and pursue my art when her own dreams were financed by marrying a wealthy man. It’s easy to chase dreams when you have money. Darn near impossible to do much chasing when you don’t.